Child Of Prophecy
by Bubbles1
Summary: It Was Written, Long Ago, That One Would Be Born, One Without The Limitations Placed On All Beings By The Gods Above. But When The One Comes, Who Will They Fight For?


~It is written in prophesy that one day an extremely gifted person would be born into this world. A man with the capabilities to exceed any limitations put on any species by the spirits above. It is a battle between the races to see who can find the child, and raise it as their own. For that species, be it elf or man, dwarf or evil, the stakes are high. This child could be trained to do astounding things. But no one knows how astounding, for the prophecies can be deceiving in their ways, and not all is truth or lies~

            The scream pierced the night. It originated from the small house that was situated near the center of the town, where the anxious townspeople were directing their worried glances. "The birth goes on too long" they whispered, "The child is a cursed spirit" Another scream erupted, and the town fell silent. Waiting. 

            They were not the only ones. At the eastern edge of the forest that densely surrounded the settlement, three score elves waited in silence. Dressed in forest green so as not to be seen, the elves of the three kingdoms: Mirkwood, Rivendell, and Lothlorien waited in silence. 

            However, on the western region opposite the elves lay another group. The Orcs and Uruk-Hai of Mordor lay crouched under a spell of silence. They held their weapons at the ready. The creatures would bring the child back to their master, or die in the attempt.

            Eons ago, almost 200 years back to be exact, there were two young wizards studying as apprentices in a far off land. They worked together as partners, and therefore assimilated the same knowledge. But after many years, the older wizard left his companion, and went to seek council with others. His friend remained behind to continue to study.  Both of them had studied the book of prophecy, and both knew full well the implications of the coming birth.

 And so Gandalf the Grey, who had pinpointed the exact time and place of the delivery, had told the elves, who were now ready to bring the baby to the Elvin kingdoms and teach him to fight for good. 

Saruman, who had also pinpointed the origin of the coming baby, told his master Sauron, who sent his minions to bring the child to him, so he could train it for evil. The upbringing of this child, could tip the scale in the war that every being knew was inevitable. Sauron was calling all evil to him, but he didn't want to make his war just yet.

The townspeople, and thus the race of man, were not aware of this. For it was believed by the other species, that the race of man was weak, and would not raise the child to its full abilities, because the hearts of men are feeble. The dwarves had no care in the matter. 

The world waited, holding its breath, as the birth continued, just like it had for the past day and a half.

~*~

            Inside the house, with the agonizing mother, was Lindsey, the young midwife of the town of Livenstall. Neither woman had any clue as to what was going on outside. Both were more interested in the baby being born. The mother was having trouble, she was just too tired to push the baby any further, and Lindsey was at a loss for what to do. If the baby didn't come soon, the mother would die from blood loss, which looked like it was going to happen shortly anyway. 

"Just one more push, M'lady, just one more"

But the exhausted woman was not responding, and Lindsey knew she had lost her. Tears rolled down her cheeks, but she was determined to save the child. Rolling up her sleeve, Lindsey did what she had to.

Every single elfin ear heard the sound of a newly arrived child scream and cry. There were sounds of relief, for the screams of the poor mother were not the kind that the elves wanted to make themselves on any day. The commander of the squad moved his group out of the shadows and into the settlement, toward the house.

The Orcs moved onward as well, but when they spotted the elves, their most hated enemy in the world, wicked screams tore from their throats and not even the fear of their master could keep them from attacking the elves. They rushed forward brandishing weapons in dizzying arrays.

Inside the hut, Lindsey held the babe to her chest, wrapping it in the blanket she held and making soft cooing noises. Then the sound of fighting reached her ears. Startled, she turned around just as an Orc came crashing through the door, he reached for her, but dropped with an arrow through his throat. Screaming, Lindsey ran out the back door, clutching the babe that had gone silent to her as she ran. 

Running into the night, she fled Livenstall in tears. The child made not a sound during the entire flight. 

Only fifteen elves survived the fight with the enemy, not a single townsperson remained alive. When the mothers' corpse was found, it was believed that the child had died, or was a miscarriage. The two wizards deeply lamented the fact that the child had passed on, but no one could remember that a young woman had run out of the house, clutching a baby to her breast. And so it was written that the child of prophecy had died. 

~*~

6 years later

~*~

Lindsey laughed with merriment as her daughter bounded around the forest glade, hopping from stone to boulder and back. Lindsey knew the child would not fall, she never had, but the motherly concern that she felt for her daughter still nagged at her that the child was not safe.

Her Uncle stepped out of the family cottage. He looked through his spectacles at the young girl running free and wild. The man had raised six children in his years as a parent, but none of them were anything like this one. She was special somehow, but he couldn't place his finger on what it was.

Seeing one of her favorite people, Ayle ran over to him. Her long blond hair, plaited in an extensive braid, flew out behind her. The man moved his axe to the other hand so he could hug his nieces' daughter. Ayle reached up to take the lumberjack's tool. But Uncle Cale moved the sharp object out of her reach. 

"No Ayle, it's too sharp for little fingers"

She pouted up at him.

"When can I help you Uncle?"

He looked into her eyes and saw a longing there, a longing for what he couldn't perceive, but it was a need for something. He pressed her closer to his leg. Her head reached just above his waist. 

"Maybe tomorrow sweetheart"

The six year old smiled happily, as she bounded over to her mother in excitement. Uncle walked into the woods as he listened to the young girl tell her mother how she was going to help her uncle take down trees. As he walked, Cale couldn't get the image of her eyes out of his mind. 

~Another 2 years later~

One morning, when Uncle woke up, he saw the girl waiting for him. She was dressed in the warm clothes that his past children had worn when they accompanied their father out logging. He idly wondered where she had found them. Over one shoulder she had a small hatchet, but it was the way she held it that un-nerved him. The smooth handle was almost molded to her small hand, like it belonged there. Cale was almost scared by the look in her eyes as she held the weapon. He couldn't identify what he saw swirling in her green eyes, but he involuntarily shuddered.  

They left as the first light of dawn swept through the forest. Normally, on the first trip with a child to his logging grounds, Cale would sternly tell them how to use the small axe they now held, but he felt that he didn't have to do that this time. He strongly believed that the girl walking beside him could understand the responsibility he placed on her, he also sensed that she understood what else the axe could do, but he dismissed with a shake of his grizzled head.  She couldn't possibly understand anything like that; she was, after all, only eight. 

Then he noticed how quite it had gone about him. The trail they were walking on was littered with dry and dead branches from the past trees that he had dragged along it, but whether by conscious thought or not, the child had not stepped on one yet. He switched his gaze to her legs, and saw that she was actually avoiding them as she walked, but her head was held high and her mind didn't seem to be moving her feet, it was like, _instinct_. Then He, himself, stepped on a branch loudly, and the sound echoed through the deep woodlands. The girl jumped.

"No Uncle! You must remain quite!"

He looked at her in surprise. Ayle shook her head slightly, as if to clear it from a fog of some sort. She looked up at him with confused eyes.

"I'm sorry uncle; I don't know why I said that"

He smiled down gently at her.

"That's ok. I understand why you want to preserve the silence. The forest is so beautiful and serene that you don't want any sound to break the spell."

His smile turned reassuring as he looked deeper into the forest. Cale's logging site was deep in the forest. He didn't want anyone to see the dead stumps left behind from his axe. A hole in the perfect line of gorgeous trees hurt his eyes, and he didn't want anyone else to see such things.  His thoughts were so preoccupied that he didn't notice the unusual quietness that hung on the forest like a smothering blanket. But Ayle did.

"Uncle, I want to go home!"

He looked down at the insistent pulling of his pant leg. Her face was paler than normal and her eyes were darting around wildly.

"It's only a bit further to the site darling, and then we can get some trees and come home again."

"I want to go now!"

There was a little voice in her head telling her danger was near. Her mother had always told her that that little voice was very important, and that she should always listen to it.

"Please uncle!"

He smiled down at her again.

"In a few minutes love. We didn't come walking all the way out here just to turn back"

They were in truth, very deep in the forest now. Cale had deliberately taken the path that led deeper into the forest, a wide loop that at first arced away from the site, then back toward it. He wanted Ayle to see as much of the beautiful woodland as she could. But now he realized that he had strayed from the path that he had only used several times. 

Ayle hugged his leg tighter.

"Uncle…"

Her whine caused him to frown. He was trying to find the remnants of the trail and her whimper was distracting him. Cale was an experienced woods man, but even he felt dwarfed by the trees at one time or another, this was one of those times. 

"Uncle!"

 Ayle hissed, louder this time. A twig snapped in the distance. Then another, closer. She grabbed at him again.

But her foster uncle was moving toward a tree to determine what side the moss was growing on, and thus where they were. But he couldn't find any landmarks; sweat broke out on his forehead. He told himself to calm down. Then he heard a sound. Looking up suddenly, he scanned the area quickly. Too quickly, for he missed several important details. 

Satisfied that it was just an animal passing. He looked over his shoulder and finally saw a familiar milestone; it was a boulder sticking high out of the ground. Walking back to his nieces' daughter, he told her to follow him. She did so, hurriedly, constantly looking over her shoulder as she did so. 

~*~

Legolas, prince of mirkwood, moved silently from the treetops. Moving stealthily from branch to branch, he shadowed the orc raiding party that was dangerously close to his fathers borders. He noiselessly motioned to the other elves that were carefully concealed in the branches. Arrows came out of quivers. 

~*~

"Darn it all!"

Ayle looked back at her uncle; he was slamming his feet in the dirt. 

"Wrong rock! Out of every bloody rock in this whole forest, I have to see the wrong one!"

Ayle looked around the forest anxiously. A branch snapped audibly. The voice in her head was screaming at her to get away, to run somewhere. She turned to her uncle.

"We have to go Cale, now!"

He looked down at her in utter astonishment. It was not the voice of a child that spoke to him; it was a commanding tone of an adult in charge. Her young face was set with determination, her eyes blazed. Never had she ever called him Cale. She grabbed his arm and pulled him along. They moved quickly into the forest, away from the rock. But it was too late.

~*~

Arrows flew thick as rain on top of, and into, the orcs and Uruk-hai that had crossed the borders of Mirkwood. An extremely agile elf darted close to the prince, grabbing his bow and lowering it to have Legolas's full attention. 

"There are humans in our forest!"

Pushing his quiver back over his shoulder, the prince demanded where they were.

The scout pointed. Legolas saw what looked like one small figure and a larger one moving quickly away from the fight. But not quick enough. 

He cursed loudly and moved with the scout toward the other outsiders.

~*~

Both Ayle and Cale could hear the sounds of fighting and dying behind them. Screams echoed through the trunks and beyond. Cale was sobbing, but his little girl was pulling him onward with inhuman strength. Cale was no longer young, and although he was strong from hauling logs and long walks, prolonged sprinting through difficult terrain was wearing him down too fast. 

The orcs had spotted them, and were galloping toward them, hoping to have hostages to bargain past the elves with.  Ayle looked over her shoulder and saw the foremost orc fall with an arrow through his throat. Legolas had caught up to them. Cale fell with a loud oomph, an arrow from an Uruk-Hai buried deep within his shoulder. The jerk on her hand caused Ayle to turn around and see the full force running at them.

At least 2 score of orcs were closing quickly. They would catch up to her Uncle too soon for her to move him. White hot rage coursed through her. She ran back to her uncle. A lithe form dropped beside her, attempting to grab the child and get her to safety. But Ayle still had her hatchet, and she swung quickly toward the arm that tried to restrain her.  Narbeleth pulled his arm back quickly when the stroke fell. Only his quick eleven reflexes preventing his from losing some fingers. 

Ayle charged back toward her Uncle, dropping her hatchet and picking up the lumberjacks axe that had fallen from his hand. With a wild cry, she rushed into the foremost of the orcs. Instinct kicked in, and the child ducked below a sword arm, burying her axe in the midriff of a pawn of Sauron. The rest of Legolas's patrol had now swept in, but the arrows could not fall so thickly with the child deep in the midst of the enemy. She was moving well, fighting as good as many of the members of the elvish patrol could. But she was only one, and the orcs were many. 

They swarmed around her in droves, outnumbering her dangerously. A sword nicked her shoulder, but she nicked it's holder in the neck and he dropped into an un-moving heap. Suddenly she was grabbed from behind, iron arms encircling her small waist and dragging her away from the fight. She screamed as the battle rage flew through her. She squirmed wildly against the arms. Wanting to get back in the melee and destroy her enemy. 

*get that axe away from her, before she beheads me with it!*

Ayle was far enough away from the orcs with the two elves that had rescued her, for the rest of them to kill the remains of the evil ones. 

*quickly Narbeleth*

*I'm trying Legolas!*

Indeed he was, but the wild swings of the axe and the kicking of the legs from the "child" had kept him at bay.

"Stay still young one! Still I say!"

But Ayle saw only the orcs, the Uruk-Hai, and heard nothing. She screamed to be put down. The prince saw that the rest of the orcs were dead, and he deemed it safe for the kid to be put down. He dropped her and moved quickly back as she ran toward the slaughter. 

*are you all right my prince?* 

Legolas looked to his long-time friend and nodded, though he knew there would be a few bruises marring his body the next day. Most of the group was on the ground, inspecting the enemy for any that still breathed. Ayle sprinted past them, the axe dropped from her hands as she fell beside her uncle's corpse. All the elves stopped to look at the crying child, and then slowly melted back into the forest to give her some privacy. Only Legolas remained at her side. He believed that she might be a hobbit, for her fighting skills were beyond that of a child. Yet her feet were not large, she wore boots and her ears were distinctly human. He was completely baffled.

She cried all the harder as she turned her dead uncle over and collapsed in a fit of tears over his chest. She was crying so hard that it was hard for her to draw breath, and the elf felt she might pass out if she didn't calm down. He knelt beside her and placed a comforting hand on her back. Almost as if by magic, she calmed down immediately. Puzzled, Legolas looked at her more closely, and saw she had fainted. His touch must have been the final straw for her nerves.

He sighed. A dead man, a skilled child, and a bunch of dead orcs. What a day this one was turning out to be. He called several of his kinfolk to him, and they started to clean up the slaughter. The two humans would come with them back to Mirkwood. Legolas had no desire to pull the corpse of the man behind him for the two day journey to his father's kingdom. But he felt he must, for the child that now slept in the arms of Faen, one of the females. Somberly, the elves went about burying the dead. Not one of their own had fallen, but the death of a child's loved one weighed heavily on the close knit elves of Mirkwood.

~*~

It was close to evening when Ayle awoke. Her shoulder felt tight, and when she moved it, pain flared through her whole arm. She was lying down, on something soft smelling of, what, she couldn't quite place. Her movements alerted the being sitting beside her and he looked down. It was Narbeleth, she remembered him from the fight, but then she also remembered her uncle.  A deep ache in her chest pained her. She didn't know of the elves, and felt that she had been taken captive by allies of the enemy. 

"How do you feel child?"

Ayle pretended she didn't understand him. He sighed loudly. Another elf poked his head into the small overhang that the girl and elf occupied.

*Has she said anything yet?*

Ayle's ears perked up, the talk was almost musical to her, a strange language that she suddenly realized, she understood. A shudder coursed through her.

*No, maybe she is a dumb one*

*With the way she fought, I hardly believe dumb is the word*

The first elf shrugged.

*Perhaps she has a problem of some kind?*

At that Ayle jumped up, accidentally hitting her head on the top of the overhang, she sat down hard, but didn't feel the pain through the rage that once more ran wild and rampant through her. 

"How dare you talk about me in such a way? I am no more stupid then the two of you!"

The two elves, Narbeleth and Seregon gaped at her. Not a single word of the western tongue had been spoken that evening by anyone, yet the child understood them perfectly. Her anger was obvious, her small fists shaking by her sides, her eyes blazing and her jaw set rigid. She glared left, right and center, before crossing her arms and turning her back on the elves. 

She was angry at herself for speaking, for now her captors knew that she spoke their language, and would question her. She felt like hurting something. Anger still coursed through her, yet she couldn't control it. She didn't want to; these…people had killed her uncle, kidnapped her and were now patronizing her. Deep down, Ayle knew the elves had not murdered her uncle, but her anger needed direction, and the elves were the closest and easiest thing. 

She rolled onto her side, allowing the pain in her shoulder to flare, letting it feed her anger, and tried to sleep. 

~*~

When the elves broke camp the next morning, Ayle refused to be carried and walked in the middle with several of the younger patrol members. News that she spoke Elvish had spread like wildfire through the ranks, and the talkative members were attempting to openly engage her in conversation. She stoically ignored them all. The anger she had felt last night was gone, leaving in its wake fatigue and resentment. Her shoulder ached horribly, and she considered telling someone, so they could tend to her wound. But the voice in her head told her not to betray any weakness. So Ayle marched with the rest of them, showing nothing on the outside, but in utter turmoil on the inside. 

Legolas watched her from behind. Her step never faltered, but she had something wrong with her, the prince could sense it. He wasn't sure what it was, and he wondered why everything he felt from her was fuzzy, almost like she was blocking his mind from hers. They marched the whole day, intent on reaching mirkwood by nightfall. The girl had not once asked to see the bundled corpse that several elves were carrying in a stretcher at the rear of the column, and Legolas feared that her young mind might not be able to handle the emotions that his death had caused, and therefore just try to block it out. Pretend it didn't happen. 

The party stopped twice for breaks. Each time Ayle would sit down and refuse any of the lembas offered to her. Thinking she would want to eat something she recognized as food, a hunter shot her a young hare that he roasted and offered. Though the smell and site was extremely tempting to the girl, she refused it as well. Legolas and Narbeleth frowned at each other. Disappointed, the hunter left the meal beside her and moved back to his pack. When the march continued, the hare was left behind, for none of it had been touched, and the elves rarely ate meat. 

It was later on in the day, nearing the start of the kingdom, that Ayle tried her first of many escape attempts. While the group was exchanging relieved looks and words, the girl slipped off into the underbrush. Moving toward a hollow that she could hide in until it was dark enough to slip past the elves; Ayle was stopped by an arrow that streaked through the air to pierce the ground directly in front of her. With a yelp, she threw herself backward. Several minutes later a disgruntled Legolas carried the unfortunate child back to the group, with her hands tied. For the girl had grabbed the arrow and attempted to stab the elf with it before he could pick her up. 

~*~

The senior members of the recently returned patrol stood in front of their king. King Thranduil waited patiently for his son, who, as he had been told, was attending to one other not-so-simple matter. Several minutes later, the Prince walked in with a small captive beside him. Thranduil had been warned that there had been a small addition to the group, but he was not prepared for the little ragtag child that his son walked beside.

The girl had once had her hair in a braid, but now it spilled over her shoulders, and more hair was free then confined. Dirt smudged her face and hands, and to his surprise, blood as well. There were several rents in her once pretty clothing and the scowl on her face was enough to force anyone a step back. Legolas bowed slightly to the king, Ayle did not. 

Recognizing the child as human, the king spoke in western so she could understand.

"Why have you bound her hands?"

"She tried to kill me"

Thranduil's eyebrows rose. 

"Release her"

Legolas gave his father a warning look, and the patrol members made small no gestures with their heads. But the king of Mirkwood would not have a child bound while she was in his throne room.

"Release her"

He said again. Legolas knelt behind her and severed the ropes with his small dagger.

"Be still and quite" 

He whispered to the girl, but she had no such plans of her own. Ayle's eyes swept to the small sheath at the elf's side where he returned the dagger. She mentally remembered that place. Getting up, Thranduil slowly came to stand in front of the girl. She only came up to his waist, so he knelt down to be at eye level with her. Legolas moved protectively closer. 

The king started to speak, but Ayle was too quick. With a speed that was merely a blur to even Elvin eyes, she grabbed the dagger and leapt toward the king. He fell back with a grunt of surprise. He raised his arm to deflect the downward swing of the knife, but his son surely saved his life, when he brutally grabbed the girl by the wrist and spun her off the king. 

Ayle felt her wrist twist, and knew she couldn't hold onto the knife, she fell awkwardly onto the floor. Moving into a sitting position, she glared at the bewildered king and would have gone at him again, had she not felt the thirty or so arrows that were pointed at her. She stood up, albeit shakily, and said loudly, in perfect Sindarin tongue,

*I will kill every single one of _you*_

Before fainting clean away.

Absolute silence reigned in the throne room of King Thranduil of Mirkwood, where an eight year old child had just given an oath to destroy them all. 

~*~

Thranduil sat with his son in a small chamber off to the side of the main throne room. The king was drinking a strong tea to calm his nerves. Legolas looked out a window. He had just told the old king everything that had happened in the forest and the march home. His father's eyes were troubled. 

* tell me Legolas, what am I to do?*

His son shrugged.

* I felt a great anger from her, father, maybe we should find the root of that, and try to fix it*

The king buried his head in his hands and rubbed his temples.

* But we elves have naught to do with the human kind; we cannot just take a child into our midst. She might have family*

*I am positive that her uncle was the only family she had.*

Thranduil brought his head up.

* I believe that you should rest here with her several days, and then take the child to Rivendell. Elrond has had more dealings with this than any other. And bury the uncle.*

Legolas smiled slightly, for he knew his father was referring to the up-bringing of Aragorn, who Legolas wanted to see again soon anyway. But he also felt some concern.

*Rivendell is far away father, do you really think we should take the child so far from where we found her?*

But Thranduil's mind was made up. The king had never had a fierce love of humans; the sight of the child hours earlier had merely awoken pity and sympathy in the heart of the old elf. But as soon as she attacked him, Thranduil's emotions for her had evaporated, and he wanted the troublesome brat as far away from him and his own as possible. 

~*~

At that exact instant, the child in question was thinking along the same lines. While she was unconscious, someone had bathed her and placed her in new clothes. A nightgown, to be precise, and then into a warm bed where she might sleep peacefully. But sleeping was not on Ayle's agenda. She carefully got out of the nice bed, which she actually thought she might miss, and walked over to the window. With one last look around the nicely furnished room, she jumped from the window onto a branch that was close to her and from there to the main trunk of the tree. 

Moving slowly, Ayle went from branch to branch, carefully moving away from the main palace building. Suddenly she froze, hearing voices below. She looked down, and saw how high she was. A wave of dizziness instantly overcame her, and she felt herself falling. The girl tried to grab the branches to stop herself, but she couldn't. Ayle screamed as the ground reached up to meet her. 

Several elves were walking through the forest quietly. One of the three of them had just come back from being on patrol with prince Legolas and was telling his companions about his adventures on the borders of Mirkwood. Ceredir was just getting to the part about discovering the orc raiding party when he heard a high scream. Looking up, he and his companions saw something falling from the braches. 

Niphrid was the closest and put her arms up to catch the small thing that fell into them. The object was heavy though, and the female elf almost lost her balance. She felt herself falling, and tried to right herself when she felt two arms encircle her neck and hold on for dear life. Ceredir put a steadying hand on her shoulders, and Niphrid was able to stand straight again. She looked down to see a pair of extremely wide eyes looking up at her. 

The other two elves leaned over to see what she had caught.

*oh, it is the small girl we found out on patrol*

Ayle was taking several deep breaths to try and calm herself after falling. It was then that she realized that she was being comforted by the enemy. With a savage twist, she pulled herself from Niphrids' grip and landed, rather unceremoniously, on her butt in the dust. Her equilibrium, however, was still up in the tree, and Ayle couldn't quite stand up on her own. 

The other elves moved to help her, but she pushed their hands away. She sat in the dust, waiting for the nausea to pass. Ceredir quickly moved off to get Legolas, he was pretty sure that the child was not supposed to be up in the trees.  

Ayle was hoping that the feeling would pass, but it didn't. Soon she was light headed and sweating. Legolas came at a slow walk, feeling that if the girl had hurt herself, then it was her own fault. She was after all, trying to escape. Himself and Ceredir came upon the trio of people on the path almost fifteen minutes after the elf had left to get his prince.

By then Ayle was hyperventilating. Sensing she was hurt badly, Legolas moved quickly to her side. He was surprised when she didn't move away from him, but actually came towards his arms when he knelt down. With the other three elves watching, Legolas asked her what was wrong.

"Feel sick"

She mumbled. He moved his hand to her brow and felt it burning. Yet the hand that she moved to touch his was ice cold. Frowning in concernment, the elf moved to pick her up, but she cried out when he moved her arm. Fearing she had broken it, he carefully set her back down. He started to feel her bone but she waved him away. 

"Shoulder h-hurts"

Her lips were turning blue and she was starting to shiver when Legolas found the small scratch from the orc blade that was high on her shoulder. He saw instantly that the wound was turning a dark blue, the sure sign of poison.

He cursed quietly, and Ayle, thinking it was at her, moved to grip his shirt.

 "I'm sorry Legolas, please don't be angry"

He looked down into her fever bright eyes and saw not the angry child that he had brought into Mirkwood, but a scared little girl that needed, and wanted his help. Carefully moving her arm onto her body, he picked up the small form, and moved back toward Mirkwood.

He departed from the other three, after sending word to get a healer up to one of the guest rooms immediately. He wasn't sure if the poison would hurt her, but he wanted to be sure that she would be alright. Entering the room that she had left scant hours ago, he laid her on the bed and went to get water and a towel to bathe her brow. But she grabbed his arm.

"Please don't go I need you!"

He smoothed her hair back fro her face and promised her would be right back. She reluctantly let go. Moving to the pitcher on the desk, he poured most of it into the wash basin below and grabbed a towel hanging from the wall. She visibly relaxed when the elf returned to her bed. 

"My name is Ayle"

She said quietly, and Legolas smiled. There was a knock at the door, and the healer entered. She was an old elf, if there even is such a thing. Her long hair was down to her waist and swayed from side to side as she came toward the bed. Legolas moved to make room for her, and Ayle whimpered at the lost contact. But her fear vanished as the healer smiled down at her. Then the world turned white and she knew no more. 

~*~

Legolas helped the old elf sit down on the bedside. She let out an exhausted sigh. 

*She is cured, the young one is*

*Then the wound will bother her no more?*

*The wound on her mind and on her body is healed by me, but it is up to you, Legolas, Prince of Mirkwood, to heal her soul*

Then she stood up, and left the confused prince behind with the child. He sat down in the large chair beside her bed, and waited for her to wake.

~*~

For the first time since leaving her house, Ayle woke up feeling refreshed and happy. The pain that had consumed her body was gone, her shoulder hurt no more and she was feeling great. The little voice that had given her such good advice over the past few days was gone, and she couldn't seem to call it back.  Her eyes roamed around the room with all the curiosity of an eight year old, stopping on the visage of the elf asleep in the chair beside her. A great wave of love came over her then, for she understood that no elf had killed her uncle, but an orc, and the elves were only trying to help her.

Her mind made up, Ayle climbed out of the bed again and kissed Legolas softly on the cheek before leaving the room silently. Still deep in sleep, Legolas of Mirkwood smiled faintly.

Stealthily climbing down the stairs, Ayle found the kitchens. They were not what she was looking for, but they were a start. Moving past them, she came to what appeared to be the dormitories, then past that to the larder. But when she turned one more corner, she found what she was looking for. An armory and past that a closet of traveling supplies. Nothing fit her very well, but she took a dagger and cut one of the capes down to fit her. Then did the same with the shirt that doubled as a dress for her. Pulling on a belt, she added several more holes and put it on. Tucking the dagger into the said belt, she added another for good measure. Then took a pack and moving back to the kitchens, filled it with food. Since it was the dead of night, no elf was about to stop her.

She moved toward the door, peeked around for any persons who would bear witness to her passing, then crept toward the forest and disappeared into the foliage. Heading for home.

~*~

Legolas paced back and forth. There was a young child out in the forest, possibly still sick, and he wasn't there to help her. She had finally opened up to him. He was sure that when he had woken up, she would have answered all his questions, but instead, he woke up to an empty room. 

Narbeleth came into the room, meeting Legolas' worried glance with a shake of his head. The child was not within the borders of Mirkwood. 

"The king is requesting your presence, Legolas"

He nodded with a sigh, and then quickly left the room to meet with his father. Walking down the hall and then turning to his right, Legolas didn't notice that several elves were following him. When he entered the throne room, he saw there were two other elves already there, two more walked in behind him. The king walked over and presented his son with a beaker of wine. 

*I need you to with these elves to Rivendell on a mission for Lord Elrond*

*But father, Ayle is still in this area, I need to find her!*

The king sent his son a frosty look.

*Your first responsibility is to your kingdom, to your kin, not to some waif that was in the forest*

*But father, I am responsible for her…*

*You are going to Rivendell with these elves Legolas. End of discussion*

*But…*

*You leave tonight*

The king turned and left the room. Legolas turned to regard the elves that were to go with him to the other Elvin kingdom. Narbeleth, Ceredir, Niphrid, and Seregon looked back at him with sympathetic eyes. He sighed heavily, and moved out of the room, his heart heavy.

~*~

Ayle pushed through the last of the branches and her heart soared as she recognized the clearing. Sprinting toward the back of her house, the child called out her mothers' name. Running around the corner, she saw the front door was open. Worry nagged through her as she slowed and cautiously entered the house. 

"Mom?"

She called out. Lindsey's voice floated quietly back to her. She pushed open the bedroom door and ran to her mother's side. The women was very pale, her face almost bloodless.

"I thought I had lost you Ayle…"

 The child grabbed her mothers' hand, a cold hand and placed it to her bowed head.

"It's alright mom, I'm here"

"Listen to me Ayle, I won't be here for much longer and I have a lot to tell you…"

"Its ok mom, I'm here, I promise to…"  
            

"Quite Ayle! This is important"

The child closed her mouth and listened to her dying mother.

"When you were born, there was a great battle…."

~*~

9 years later

~*~

Thomas the shopkeeper turned his back on his display of apples as he moved his wooden box of vegetables to the other side of the cart. When he turned back, his practiced eye saw that two apples were missing. He scanned the crowd, but saw nothing amiss. Growling about the rate of crime in Gondor, he went back to his business.

Grinning to herself as she threw the apples in to the air and then caught them, Osp moved easily through the crowds that milled about in the marketplace. She moved deeper into the city of Gondor, into the poorer sections. Stopping in front of a particularly run-down building, she went up the steps and tossed one of the apples to her friend Roger and continued up the stairs. He grinned at her.

"Poor Thomas lost some more of 'is produce I see."

Osp's grin widened as she sat on one of the steps above him and sank her own teeth into the red fruit. The girl had a talent for stealing. Her natural ability for stealth aided her well in the not-so-new-found profession. Roger ate the entire thing, even sucking on the pips until they were soft enough to be eaten. His thin stomach growled that it was still hungry. 

Osp heard her friends belly and laughed. She passed him the other half of her apple. The boy was younger than her by two years, and the female felt that she had to look out for him. But stealing one apple or pinching a quick meal in three days wasn't enough. With winter coming on fast, Osp knew she had to steal some money before the market place closed down and food was only available in shops, which were much harder to steal from. She was sure that tomorrow she would have to steal some gold. 

~*~

Legolas Greenleaf walked through the city with his close friends Aragorn and Narbeleth. The two elves and the man moved through the crowded streets with their cloaks on and the hoods up. They had no wish to be recognized. Osp and Roger were also walking through the streets, looking for potential targets. The girl immediately saw the three people walking with hoods drawn. She moved toward them, knowing that their big hoods would obstruct their view of the area, giving her an advantage. There were two taller ones, with another that was slightly shorter. The disadvantage of the cloaks was that Osp couldn't see what was underneath. But she was hungry enough to risk it, besides; she hadn't been caught in three years of stealing. 

She moved quietly, feeling only the eyes of Roger watching her. The trio was walking slowly, as Osp moved up behind the short one. Pulling free a tiny dagger she slit a hole in the forest green cloak and moved her hand inside. She felt his bag of coins and gently pulled it toward her. But some kind of sixth sense must have alerted her prey, because he turned around suddenly. For a second, Osp met bright blue eyes, then she was running, the heavy bag clutched in her hand. 

Legolas cursed vehemently as he tore off after the girl. Aragorn and Narbeleth followed him soundlessly as the silent chase began. Osp knew the city well, but her pursuers were close, very close and could run faster then her, for they had proper foot gear and rest. She was a weakened street girl. The bag was heavier then she had ever hoped. Roger sprinted across her path; she tossed him the bag of what she knew had to be quite a lot of gold, and switched directions. 

Aragorn cursed as the two thieves tapered off. Narbeleth immediately followed Roger, leaving Aragorn and Legolas to take care of the other one. 

"We do not have time for this, friend"

Aragorn reminded the elf. They had passed out of the populated areas and the two pushed their hoods from their faces. Legolas pulled his long hair out from the collar and put on an extra burst of speed, and caught the girl by the upper arm. His contact pushed her off balance and the girl felt herself falling. She tried to right herself, but she couldn't. She crashed down into a barrel of garbage. 

Roger knew the elf behind him was very close, he pushed his legs harder and on one of the intersections he saw Osp running toward the river. He changed his direction so he could meet up to her. 

He suddenly had to brake to a stop as he unknowingly did meet up with Osp; she was struggling to get up from a fall. He ran in behind her, fear rising high in his throat.

Osp saw him run behind her as the other elf moved in to cut off their escape route. They were surrounded. Aragorn glared at the boy. 

"Give us the bag, child, and we will let you live!"

The man had no compassion for thieves, even ones as young as these two. Osp knew that the two elves would understand her if she spoke their language, and was almost positive that the man would not, for few men knew the tongue of the elves. She wanted this man to know that even she, a thief, knew more than he did, with all his fine clothes.

*You will not touch him!*

Aragorn was more than a little surprised that the child knew the Elvin tongue. He quickly searched for Elvin features on her face, but she had none. Completely perplexed, he stated his demand again. She responded by pulling forth her most prized possession. It was a beautifully hand crafted Elvin dagger. She held it with a familiarity that sent a shudder through Aragorn. 

"Do you ask for an attack?"

Narbeleth asked. She glared at him with blazing eyes.

"I will defend my own till the death, elf"

She spoke the last word with false contempt. The three adults heard it plainly.

"Osp…"

The child behind her whined in fright. She placed her left hand comfortingly on his shoulder and maneuvered him behind her. Aragorn smiled slightly.

"Smoke? You named yourself Smoke in the Sindarin tongue?"

"Quite fitting for a thief I thought"

She retorted. He snorted at her.

"I will not warn you again. Give us the bag or you will be punished."

Osp knew the price for stealing in Gondor. If she and Roger were to remain well and good, these three had to be silenced. The girl was no stranger to killing. The three moved in threateningly and Osp gave her challenge.

*I will kill every single one of _you*_

Then launched into a violent attack with her dagger on Aragorn. He had expected her to defend, not attack. He deflected the blow and waited for one of the elves to take her down. But they didn't. The two were frozen, staring, gaping, at the child. Aragorn's quick glance at them cost him a long cut on the top of the hand from her dagger. She moved forward again, but stalled suddenly.

"Ayle?"

She spun around to look wide-eyed at Legolas, her mind trying hard to recognize the face, place the voice, but 9 years is a long time. Aragorn took advantage of her pause and brought the hilt of his sword down on her un-protected head. She collapsed, right into Narbeleth's arms. 

"Ayle? Is it her Legolas?"

"It had to be, she threatened us the same in my fathers court."

Roger, sensing the time had come, sprinted off with the loot. But one of Legolas's arrows burying deep in the building less then three steps in front of him stopped the boy short. The elves's eyes blazed with fire. 

"You will tell us everything you know of this girl!"

He commanded. Roger nodded miserably.  Aragorn was more then a little confused as the elder elf picked up the teenager with no obvious effort while Prince Legolas walked the boy forward. They walked toward the palace of Gondor.  

~*~

Osp tried not to move, her head hurt too much. But the voices she heard called to her, and she couldn't ignore them. Her eyes opened slowly, blinking away the last vestiges of a sleep that she really wanted to go back to. A gentle hand pushed hair off her face, and Osp moved her hand up to where most of the pain was residing, and the hand left her face to push it away.

"Leave it Ayle, the bandage has to set."

She recognized the voice, but from where? She didn't know, but she was sure that she recognized it. 

"Ayle? Look at me please"

            Her eyes opened again, and looked in to the blue eyes that she had stolen from. They were kind eyes, and she recognized them too. But she couldn't remember. He saw the turmoil in her eyes and spoke words that brought her fake reality crashing down around her.

            "Ayle, my name is Legolas, almost a decade ago; I helped you in the forests of Mirkwood. Your uncle was killed by marauding orcs and you came with us to the palace. You disappeared before I could talk to you further."

            Tears coursed down her cheeks as she remembered the deaths of what she had always believed to be her family. The truth about her past, the years spent wandering the wilds and seeing and suffering things no child should ever have had to. She had found a new life in Gondor, had created a fantasy world that she wanted to believe so bad that her own mind was fooled. In Gondor she had been born into the world of poverty and had survived enough to be a thief. In Gondor she was a teenager looking out for her best friend Roger. 

            But Legolas brought that world crashing down into shards. She was the daughter of a whore who didn't even know the name of the father of the child who killed her. The tears came harder. Legolas came forward to sit down on the bed that she was lying in. he moved to put his arms around her, and Ayle felt a comfort when he did that. She felt the child's blind love that she felt for him once long ago come back in a warm rush. She collapsed with her grief into his welcoming arms.

            Roger was watching from the corner of the room, he felt a hot rush of jealousy. In all the time he had known Osp, she had never moved to touch him in any such way, yet the elf that had tried to kill them was now hugging her. He felt Aragorn's strong grip tighten on his shoulder when he tried to move forward. 

            The ranger directed the child out of the room, giving him up into the custody of several guards outside of the small space. Legolas surprised the man by moving up behind him and putting gentle pressure on his back, a subtle hint to leave the room. The elf closed the door when they were both in the hall. 

            "She's sleeping. Emotionally drained"

            He glanced to Roger, who was staring in open wonderment at an elf, but the prince also saw his hate and jealously. He motioned to the guards and they moved the boy away, to the lower levels. Aragorn took his close friend by the hand and encouraged him to sit down on the bench beside the door. 

            "Tell me of this child, Legolas."

            "Well, it started nine years ago. I was leading a party against an orc raiding group when this girl and her uncle wound up in the path of the orcs. The uncle was killed in the scuffle, only after the child had killed a good half score of them. She could only have been 7 or 8 at that time. She was so consumed by her rage at the beasts; she almost took my head off with her axe. We 

brought her back to Mirkwood, and then she disappeared." 

            "And now she turns up?"

            The other sighed, and the two of them moved toward the dining hall, then to their separate rooms to sleep.

            Roger moved quietly toward the landing. Fortunately, the people in the house of Gondor did not know that he was known as "Roger Lockless" on the streets, for there had not been a lock built that the young man could not pick. The one on his door was little more than a hindrance. Peeking around the corner, Roger saw the two guards outside Osp's room. His hand quietly moved toward a vase of flowers on the table beside him.

~*~

            Ayle was angry at Legolas. 

            The elf had ruined her life. She was doing fine in Gondor, she had a life. Not a spectacular one, but one that she enjoyed. Now the stupid elf had brought terrible memories back to her. Ayle had deliberately spent months not remembering such things, blocking them out so they wouldn't hurt her. She hated him for hurting her, making her feel things she had promised herself never to feel again. 

            There was a crash outside her door. She sat up in bed sharply. The two guards that were guarding her from any escape attempt moved off in the direction that the crash had come from. Roger poked his head through the door with a smile.

            "Miss me?"

            She smiled happily at seeing him. She moved out of the bed and grabbed her clothes. Roger blushed and turned around as she changed. He clasped his hands in front of him and stared up at the ceiling. 

            Osp hissed at him that she was ready and they both peeked around the doorway. The two guards were still on the landing. They had obviously not seen the broken vase that Roger had smashed to grab their attention.

            Moving silently, the duo slipped past multiple guards, and towards the first floor. Roger poked Osp In the side before they entered one of the more lighted hallways.

            "Here"

            He hissed. Passing the girl one of the swords that he had picked up as he moved toward her room. The sleeping guard he had taken it from didn't seem to be using it anyway. She nodded her thanks, before taking a chance and moving into the light in order to cross the hall. However, Osp had only assumed the hall would be empty of Guards at this late hour, and her assumption was wrong. 

            As she moved, several guards spotted her and set up the alarm. Roger, surprised by their shouts, jumped out behind his friend. Seeing she had a sword, the guards drew their own. The lust of battle flowed through Ayle quickly, and the Child of Prophecy felt that there weren't enough guards in the world for her to kill. She stepped into the path of the charging men and raised her sword.

            Aragorn was awakened by the sound of sword fighting. Thinking it to be just bored guards practicing, he turned over and closed his eyes. Then the scream of a dying man reached his ears. Soon, Legolas was pounding on the door just as Aragorn opened it. Both had their weapons on, the elf with his bow and daggers, Aragorn with his sword.  

            They moved toward the sounds of battle.

            Roger had never before been this scared. Not even when he had been chased by the elf in the street a scant few hours ago. Now he saw Osp cutting down men like ripe wheat before the scythe. They fell into bloodied and unmoving heaps. Osp never once slowed or stopped. She was death in the form of a child. He didn't notice the two warriors come up behind him.

            Aragorn's gray eyes swept over the bundles that were once men. At least a score and a half of them lay on the floor. There were no more men before Osp, so she now turned toward the place where she heard sound. Her eyes looked over the elf and man standing across the room in front of her. Roger stood with in three paces of them. 

             *by the tears of Valinor*

            Legolas cursed. The child came toward them. Aragorns' sword came up; he touched it to his forehead and charged the girl. She turned her sword to let his charge sail harmlessly by. But she turned to him, and accepted his un-spoken challenge. He moved in, she followed. Legolas watched the two of them dance, dance in death. He knew Aragorn meant only to disarm the child for he was no murderer and lived by the code of honor. Ayle was the opposite. She was killing, because, she wanted to. He saw it in her eyes. She wanted to kill. It was a lust, a _need. _

            Legolas, Prince of Mirkwood, pulled and arrow from his quiver and drew it back on his bow. Her eyes turned to him, and for a second he saw something flicker in her eyes, but it was gone. Aragorn couldn't get a hit in. She blocked every strike; counter attacked any move he made. His final opportunity was a risky one. He moved in low, on one knee, and swung viciously up. 

            He reasoned that since he was stronger, his blade would push hers forcefully out of her hands. But it left his stomach and chest wide open. His sword blade contacted with nothing but air, as she read his move and stared a stab low, right to his abdomen. An arrow streaked out of Legolas' direction and struck the girl in her shoulder, the one that had been nicked so many years before by a poisoned Orc blade.

            The force of the hit caused her to turn a full ninety degrees, her sword to drop, and her body to fall backward. Aragorn caught her in his arms as she landed hard. Legolas and Roger raced to her side. She was breathing heavily, sweat on her brow, blood everywhere. The arrow went deep, and the ranger feared to remove it. The maniac look left her eyes, and the blue orbs looked up at the faces above her with utter remorse.

            Roger grabbed his arm. 

            "We must leave! Now!"

            Narbeleth appeared suddenly, dressed to travel. He had been out for a walk. His eyes took in the destruction and then the group huddled against one of the walls. He knew it wouldn't be long until more guards came. He moved forward.

            Roger heard a noise and swung around, his fist raised. The elder elf easily caught it and pushed the small hand away. He knelt beside his friends and immediately understood the situation. Thirty palace guards were murdered, and the future king of Gondor sat with the murderer cradled in his arms. 

            *Listen to me Estel, there is only one way to do this*

            Aragorns head came up.

            *Legolas and I will take the two children with us to Rivendell. There is something special about this child I know there is. You must stay here and say that an assassin tried to enter; he escaped before you could get him, or something along those lines. If this child is found, or you or us to be found under suspicion, we will be put to death. *

            The ranger nodded his assent, before passing the girl into Narbeleth's arms. Roger, who had not understood any of the elfish words spoken, looked first to the elves, then to Aragorn in a near panic.

Legolas took his hand and pulled him away from the slaughter.

            "Once out of Gondors lands, we will travel slow so you may catch up Estel"

            "No Legolas, Get Ayle to my father as soon as you can, take horses from the stables. Tell them there was an assassin and you fear attack, so you are leaving for safer lands. I will take care of the rest. Oh, and Legolas, ask my father about the child of prophecy."

            The elf and man clasped forearms and looked deep into each other's eyes. Legolas nodded and left quickly, following Ayle and Narbeleth. The girl was delirious with pain and fatigue.

            *Death*

            She muttered more than once, and Narbeleth's concerned eyes moved to her. Stopping once in his room to gather his things, then on to Legolas', he saw how deep the arrow went. Gritting his teeth, he knew that it should not be removed until they were at a place where she could rest for several days after.

They encountered no problems at the stables, for the guards there were drunk and didn't notice the passage of the elves and their charges, or several of their prized horses. Legolas left them a brief note on a piece of parchment. Then they were off. 

            They rode hard, and within the night, they were a safe distance from Gondor. The elves were worried for both children. Roger had not said a word the entire night, and stared woodenly at things only he could see. Ayle groaned and moved often, several times almost falling off the horse that she shared with Narbeleth. Thankfully, he caught her each time. But when the falls became far too numerous for his liking, the elder elf called to his friend that it was time to make a camp. In an attempt to cheer the little boy up, Legolas asked him if he wanted to pick a campsite for the night. 

            It had the desired effect. Roger's eyes brightened as he and Legolas tried to pick out a good place.

            "What about this one?"

            "Where?"

            The boy pointed.

            "Hmm, maybe we should look for one with more trees in case it rains."

            With the prospect of getting wet included in that particular site, Roger readily turned to find another. Roger Lockless hated to be wet. Finally they found a small clearing beside a bubbling brook that was deemed satisfactory by both parties. Narbeleth hid a smile. 

            They picketed their horses and unloaded the extra one they had brought alone. Roger was beside himself with questions. About the camp, about the horses. He ran from one side of the clearing to the other. Osp was lying on a blanket spread beneath the boughs of several coniferous trees. Narbeleth had his bag of healing herbs with him and was inspecting the arrow. Legolas knelt beside him after sending Roger off to find dry wood for a fire.

            *How does she fair, my friend?*

            *The wound shall be not so easily removed, but she will survive it. I wonder what madness has taken over her mind though* 

            Legolas looked into Ayles' eyes and saw what the elf was talking about. Her eyes were un-focused and heavily glazed. It was not natural, even for one that had an arrow wound.

            *will you need help friend?*

            *no, but keep the other child occupied whilst I do this. Twill not be pretty*

            The younger elf nodded and quickly moved to show Roger where to dump his load of firewood, then explaining how to make out a shelter out of tree branches and twine. The youngster excitedly grabbed a branch and attempted to bend it, but the bough had other plans, as it swung out of his grip and hit the child in the chin. Legolas laughed aloud as he was sent sprawling. The laughter of the elf was like bells on the wind, and even the sulking youngster had a hard time keeping a smile off his face as he pushed himself off the ground. 

~*~

            Osp was sitting down by the fire, leaning against Legolas and lightly dozing. Narbeleth was teaching Roger how to make arrows when the boy had shown interest in the quivers carried by both elves. Both elf and man were very happy. Roger was an interested and eager learner. Ready to learn anything and everything while asking as many questions as he could get in.

            Osp smiled slightly as her friend tried vainly to get the feather stick to the wooden rod, his tongue sticking out the side of his mouth with concentration. Her smile grew as the feather slipped through his fingers and floated lazily to the ground. He looked up miserably at Narbeleth as the elder elf giggled. Sighing good naturedly, Roger said he would try tomorrow when there was more light to see by. 

            Legolas had made a habit out of looking over his shoulder, back the way the group had come from. Narbeleth sighed when his friend looked over for the umpteenth time. 

            "Aragorn will come, you know he will."

            Now it was Legolas' turn to sigh.

            "I know, but I cannot help but worry that all has not gone well, and Estel is being persecuted for the crime committed by the child."

            He nodded down at the girl asleep in his arms. Narbeleth smiled. He saw Roger was also falling asleep beside the fire. He pulled a blanket over the young boy. But then his tone grew more serious.

            *There is something special about these people, isn't there? *

            *Estel believes that there is, and I tend to agree with him. This girl alone brought down several palace guards in Gondor. She has killed more beings then she has seen summers. *

            Narbeleth nodded, and he knew that the both of them were remembering the Orc slaughter on the edges of Mirkwood. He watched the fire die down to red embers.

            *Will Elrond know what to do?*

            Legolas looked up from the fire as well when Narbeleth asked the question. The other elf did not know the Lord or his twin Elvin sons, Elladan and Elrohir, as well as the prince did. Narby had lived there for several years, and known the royal elves, but he was not the best friend of a member of the family, as Legolas was. 

            *Of course, he will*

            Legolas told him, and found the words reassuring to both himself and his friend. The fire crackled in the dead of night while the red glow of flames died away. 

~*~

            The journey to Rivendell was well underway and there was no sign of Aragorn. Each day the quartet of two humans and two elves got on their horses and rode till midday, when they would break for lunch, before continuing on till nightfall. It was during these lunch breaks that Roger learned to draw a bow, and shoot. He was enjoying it immensely, until he challenged Osp to a match.

            Even though the elves always referred to her as Ayle, Roger had known her as Osp since he could remember knowing her, and the other name didn't sit well with him. The girls' shoulder was healing nicely, and although it pained her some, she never complained. 

            When she drew Legolas' bow, the pain was minimal, but she couldn't fully extend her arm to pull back the arrow. For that reason, her shots were lopsided, and didn't travel the exceptional distance that they normally could. But she still beat Roger hollow. 

            Realizing that everyone in the camp but him could shoot well, the young man (he grumbled loudly if anyone called him a child), threw himself in to the training of firing the arrow. Then he realized that he must make his own arrows, because he could rarely find the ones that Narbeleth or Legolas let him borrow after he had shot them. 

When he could shoot well with his crooked arrows on an extra bow that they had bought in one of the settlements they had passed through, Narbeleth presented him with a quiver, and Legolas gave him a full set of arrows. True, and straight ones. That night, Roger shot a rabbit and bird for himself and Osp to eat for dinner. It was late in the second week of the journey, and Aragorn was still not there. 

Several nights later, Legolas happily announced that they would reach the borders of Rivendell on the morrow. Narbeleth smiled, but the two young humans were apprehensive. Osp did not sleep well that night.

As they trudged through the forest the next morning, Roger kept an arrow docked to his string. He told Legolas it was in case he saw an animal that he could slay and eat, for the human did not have the speed or agility yet to draw an arrow and set it up before the prey had run away. He was also sick of lembas bread. 

~*~

            Elladan and his twin Elrohir were creeping through the underbrush, shadowing Legolas and his party. The prince would have noticed them, had he not been pointing out familiar landmarks to Narbeleth. The two elves of Rivendell were curious of the children that were in the group. Unconsciously, Elrohir stepped on a dry twig.

Hearing the snap, Roger spun around and loosed his arrow with a cry. Luckily, Elladan had seen the boys' arrow, and was able to pull himself and his brother out of the way of the shaft. But he was totally unprepared for the girl that jumped clear over a fallen log with a sword raised above her head coming toward them. 

Springing up with his Elvin agility, Elladan brought his sword up to counter her downward chop. Narbeleth was knocking the bow from Rogers's hands and racing toward the twins when Ayle sent Elladans' sword flying and held him at knifepoint. By then Elrohir was up, and had his own sword point nicking the girls throat. 

*Put your weapons down! All of you!*

Legolas shouted. Reluctantly, Ayle lowered the point. Elrohir did not. She moved her eyes from the twin on the ground to the one threatening her. Elrohir took a cautious step back from the dangerous glint in her eyes. 

*Drop it Boy, before I drop you*

  He blinked; surprised that she was fluent in Elfish. Then he cautiously pulled his sword back, he didn't like being threatened. Not by a child. But the way she had moved when dispatching his brother had clearly shown him that she was not a person to be reckoned with.  Elladan stood up from his former position on his knees. He brushed his leggings off, and never taking his eyes from the girl, moved toward the Prince. Both Narbeleth and Legolas sent angry glares toward Osp. The girl was breathing hard and just starting to feel now the pain of her shoulder as the adrenaline wore off. But she swallowed her pain, and cleared her eyes and face of any sign of it. She would not show weakness in front of these two new elves. 

Realizing that speaking in elfish would be useless because the girl understood it, Elladan spoke in the western tongue.

"My my, what a little spit fire"

Ayle's eyes darkened.

"At least I can keep hold of my sword"

She retorted. Both twins raised their eyebrows, but they were a good-natured pair, and let the comment go. 

Legolas cleared his throat loudly. 

"We need to see Elrond"

"I would think that you would rather see Estel first"

Legolas' eyes widened and relief flowed through him when Elrohir told him that the man had come home a different route then they, and had arrived yesterday. 

"You may go wake him, if you wish, it is time for him to get up anyway."

The four elves all shared a mischievous look, before the prince and his older mentor took their leave. Elrohir and Elladan shared another secret look, before leading the two children into the main part of Rivendell. Ayle and Roger's eyes widened with the beauty of the Elvin kingdom. The structures and such took the breath from their lungs. Ayle even forgot about her throbbing shoulder as her eyes drank up the beauty that surrounded her. The twins, who had lived with the exquisiteness their whole lives, took no extra notice and continued on. But they were forced to stop and turn around when they realized the children weren't following them anymore. 

Sighing, Elrohir moved back, until he could see the pair of them staring up at a fountain. 

            "Hurry up little ones; we want to get there before darkness closes in"

            Roger knew he was teasing them, for it was barely noon, and a smile graced his features. He realized that he liked these two elves, when Elladan appeared silently behind his brother, and mimicked the warning that had been given; only he did it with his tongue hanging out and his eyes rolling. Stifling a giggle at the antics at the two, for Elrohir had turned and caught his brother before swatting him, Roger followed them. Ayle tore her eyes away from the fountain and continued as well.

            They entered the hall of Lord Elrond several minutes later. Elladan looked at the ceiling and said loudly.

            "Whew, didn't think we'd get here tonight. I was worried we'd have to camp out on the veranda and continue at dawn."

            Now Ayle smiled as well, she had taken a liking to the irrepressible pair as well. Elrond rose from his chair, and cast a look over his two sons. They grinned and moved deferentially out of the way, allowing their father a clear look at the new arrivals. 

            Ayle had been looking around at the splendor of the room, but with the elf watching her attentively, she turned to look at him. He looked deep into her eyes, and the girl felt like he could see right into her soul. But she wasn't afraid, or self-conscious.

            *My name is Ayle, this is my friend Roger*

            The lord didn't seem surprised that she knew elfish, he merely nodded. For Elrond had been forewarned of the girl by his foster son. When Aragorn had told his father what the child had done to the Gondorian guards, the elf's' curiosity, and his guard had been aroused. He vividly remembered a meeting more than a few years ago with a certain Wizard, who had come to warn him of the birth of a child. A child of Prophecy. He had decided the night before that he would find out exactly who this person was, and where her loyalties lay. Leaning forward in his chair, He continued to look into her eyes.

            *Ayle, can you tell me where you were born?* 

            Immediately the girl was on her guard. She was expecting a question about her health, or the journey, not one as personnel as her birthplace. Also, she resented how the Elder person had talked to her like a child. She was no more a child then he, she thought, though Ayle had no way of knowing that the elf was thousands of years old and to him, she was, truly, a child.  Deciding that she would tell him when she was sure she could trust him, Ayle lied that she was born in a hamlet in the south. Every elf in the room knew it was a blatant lie, but Elrond did not question her on it. He merely nodded, and figured that the girl was not comfortable with the situation, and was there fore on her guard. He couldn't exactly blame her either. 

            So with a word of welcome, he asked the twins to show the children to their rooms. Ayle followed the two silently out of the large room. Roger came behind. When they had left, Lord Elrond called one of his fastest messengers forward.

            "Find Gandalf Greyhem and bring him here."

            The messenger nodded, and left to get himself a horse. Elrond buried his head in his hands.

~*~

            Elladan exchanged evil glance with Elrohir before turning back to the children who were over looking the forest from a broad terrace on one of the higher levels. 

            "You know what we should do?"

            Ayle and Roger looked up at him in question. The twins had wicked grins on their handsome faces.

            "We should go and make sure that Estel is awake"

            Rogers's eyebrows met above his nose in confusion.

            "Who's Estel?"

            He asked. The grins widened.

            "Why, he's our dearest little foster brother, known to you as Aragorn."

            Roger nodded and Ayle giggled in agreement. The group set off for the main house. 

            Legolas and Narbeleth were sitting in utter despair on the floor outside of Estels room. They looked up glumly as the others entered the hall.

            *He locked the door*

            Legolas explained. Elladan laughed aloud at the innocence of the prince. Producing his dagger, the elf nimbly and quickly picked the lock. The door swung open. He shrugged.

            "I've had quite a lot of practice at picking that lock" 

            He explained. The group of six entered the large room. Aragorn was sleeping blissfully in his bed. Feeling safe and secure after the long and hard ride in from Gondor, the elves knew that the man would not be waking up soon. Well, not peacefully at least. The twins and Legolas exchanged glances; they had been in this situation many times in the past. Estel happily asleep…three devilish elves creeping into his room with a rude awaking in store.


End file.
